


The Firebrand

by babel



Series: Matchwood [1]
Category: Blake's 7
Genre: Gen, PGP, Post-Canon
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-07-02
Updated: 2015-07-27
Packaged: 2018-04-07 06:10:15
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 10,891
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4252317
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/babel/pseuds/babel
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Jenna Stannis arrives at Gauda Prime to find Blake's body. Instead, she finds a some other old--and new--companions.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. The Body

**Author's Note:**

> This story is told in an episodic manner, as if it were a fifth series of the show. Each "episode" will contain 3-5 chapters and will run about 5,000-10,000 words in total. While this story assumes my story "Divide" as backstory for Travis and Carnell, it isn't necessary to read that to follow this story. Will include f/m and m/m pairings later, although romance is not the focus.

Jenna clenched her jaw as she watched the small Federation ship disappear into the atmosphere of Gauda Prime. It seemed like she could simply lift her gun and shoot it out of the sky, but it was just the illusion of perspective.

“That’s the last one,” she said with a nod, and Bek nodded back. The trek through the Gauda Prime jungle wouldn’t be a pleasant one, but their destination was even less pleasant. It was an hour before she spotted the building. “It’s just there. Let’s hope we have someone to greet us.”

Bek’s expression was grim, maybe even grimmer than her own, and neither of them were surprised when they pushed open the door to the facility to find the floor strewn with corpses.

She recognized some of them immediately, even though she hadn’t seen them in two long years.

“Cover the door while I check the bodies,” she said.

Bek took his post, and Jenna got to work.

She went to Vila first. It seemed appropriate; she’d met him first, and he’d done his part to look out for her in the transit cell back on Earth, if only by annoying her would-be attackers. She bit her lip as she checked his wrist, and after a moment, she let out a sigh. “He has a pulse. Not a strong one.” She plucked out a tracking button and stuck it to his arm then tapped her communicator. “I’ve got your first patient. Let’s hope there are more.”

“Right. Bringing him up.” the voice replied, and Vila faded from view.

Jenna checked a blonde woman next, one she didn’t recognize, and a man with curly brown hair. Both were dead. She had better luck with a short-haired woman and sent her up to the ship with Vila. She picked through all the bodies, hoping that Blake’s was there somewhere, just out of sight. She left the body at the center of the room until last.

“Only two,” she muttered over Avon’s crumpled form. “It doesn’t seem fair for you to be the third.” She knelt by him anyway and felt his wrist. She wasn’t surprised by the pulse she felt. She slapped the tracking button to his arm and dug her thumb into her communicator. “One more patient, and bring Bek up.”

“And you?”

“Give me five minutes, then bring me up too.”

“Are you sure that’s safe?” Bek asked from the doorway.

Jenna only nodded, though in all honesty it wasn’t safe at all.

“All right,” said the voice on the communicator. “Five minutes.”

She waited until Bek and Avon faded from view before she stood. “They’ve got you,” she whispered. “But I’ll get you back. You’re going to Earth, Blake. If I have to kill every damned Federation bastard on the way.” She closed her eyes and twisted the bracelet on her wrist. The red light was still shining. She should take it off.

The communicator chimed. “I’m bringing you up.”

“Was that five minutes?”

“Mm.” The corpses around her dissipated, and in a few seconds she was home on her ship, the Firebrand.

* * *

“My head aches,” Vila muttered before he even opened his eyes. He was used to waking up with a headache.

“How’s your chest?”

His eyes flew open—he wasn’t used to someone being there when he woke up with a headache. A man was sitting next to the bed he was on. An attractive man with golden blond hair and the definite air of an alpha, down to the manicured nails and curled eyelashes. He was sitting over Vila in a medical room of some sort, and he could feel the vibration of a ship.

Slowly, he began to remember what had happened.

He squeezed his eyes shut. “Are you Federation?”

There was a pause before he answered, “No.”

“Had to think about it, did you?” Vila opened his eyes again and pushed himself up to sit on the cold medal medical bed. It was a mistake. He reached for his chest, which did ache more than his head in retrospect. “Where am I?”

“The medical bay of the Firebrand.”

“What does the Firebrand want with me, then?”

The man smiled wryly. “I’m sure nothing. However, Captain Stannis seems to want you alive.”

Vila’s chest ached for an entirely different reason, and he eyed the man. “Don’t play with my emotions now; do you mean that? This is Jenna’s ship?”

“It is.”

“What about…” Vila looked around, but he only found two others in the medical bay; Dayna and… “Are they dead?”

“Everyone in this room is currently alive. The others on Gauda Prime, however, are not, I’m afraid.”

Vila ran his fingers into his hair. “But I’m alive.”

“Yes. The burns on your chest aren’t serious. I’ve treated them, and they should heal completely in a week or two.” The man paused. “The captain received word of Blake’s death, and came to retrieve the body and any survivors. Unfortunately, someone got to his body before we did, so we’ll be on our way to find it, I expect.”

“Did she get word on _how_ he died?”

“Yes, but Jenna’s not the sort of woman who leaves a man to die without confronting him and dealing with the matter fairly.”

“Fair would be a blast to his head, if you ask me,” Vila spat, then he shivered at his own outburst. “Who are you?”

“Carnell, formerly a psychostratigist for the Federation. Very formerly, I assure you.”

Vila narrowed his eyes at him. “So that’s why you paused.”

Carnell smiled. “You’re a perceptive man.”

“Yeah.” Vila took a deep breath. “Look, I appreciate the hospitality and everything, but do you think I could sit somewhere else? This bed is making me cold.”

“Of course.” Carnell rose gracefully and helped Vila to his feet, then lowered him into the chair he’d been sitting in. It was considerably warmer and softer, and Vila leaned back into it. “I’m going to check on the others,” Carnell said softly and he left him for the other medical beds.

Vila wanted to ask Carnell to stay with him, to keep talking just so he wouldn’t have to think. It was horrible, thinking—and immediately, like an instinct or a flinch, he imagined the thousand witty retorts Avon would have to _that_ sentiment. Except Avon wouldn’t have them now, because Avon was lying in a bed a meter away, unconscious and maybe dying.

“I wish Cally were here,” Vila whispered to no one. “And Gan too. Someone who’d tell me what’s right.”

The communicator chimed, startling Vila out of his conversation with himself. He watched Carnell press the button on a band around his wrist. “Carnell,” he responded smoothly.

“Jenna,” came the reply, and Vila smiled at the familiar voice. “We’re going to dock with a ship in a few moments, and I’d like you to lock down the medibay just in case.”

“In case of what?” Vila asked, startled.

“I hear Vila’s awake,” Jenna said. “Good. Tell him it’s all right. Just a precaution.”

“I heard you! Only you don’t lock down when it’s all right, do you?” Vila was attempting to sound offended, but he couldn’t quite manage it. Jenna was okay. He could cling to that for a while at least.

Carnell chuckled. “Yes, Captain. Keep me apprised, will you?”

“Of course.”

Vila pulled up his knees, hugging them to his chest for warmth. “How are they?” He nodded toward Dayna.

“I believe they will pull through. Avon was shot five times, that I counted, but they missed anything vital. The woman—”

“Dayna,” Vila supplied.

“Dayna has a more serious injury, but I believe she’ll fight through it.” Carnell tapped on the medibay’s lock—an three-pronged magnivolt lock, series 3500, by the sound of it—and returned to Dayna’s side. “I’m not precisely a medical doctor, but I’m the closest to one on this ship.”

“Dayna will be fine,” Vila said, more to himself than to Carnell.

Carnell turned his head so that Vila could see his profile. “You will be too.”

“A week, you said.”

“Yes, but your burns aren’t what I meant.”

Vila’s eyes widened. “Is there something else wrong with me?”

Carnell just smiled and turned his attention to tending Dayna’s wound

* * *

Jenna approached the docking bay with Bek close to her side. He hadn’t much liked the idea of docking with the strange ship that had approached them, but they had information about where Blake’s body was, and she needed whatever she could get. There were worse risks she could take than docking with a tiny non-Federation spacecraft—at most there were three passengers, more likely two.

When the docking bay rolled open and revealed two black-clad figures, she smiled a little. Even odds. She didn’t like, however, that they both wore hooded cloaks which obscured their faces. She could tell there were secrets under those shadows.

She couldn’t be too judgmental, though. She had a few secrets herself.

“You have information,” she said when neither of the two hooded figures spoke.

“Yes,” came a gruff voice. Artificially gruff. He carried himself strangely too… one arm appeared longer than the other, and the longer one hung in an oddly stiff way. “I need something from you in return.”

Jenna furrowed her brow. “The information first.”

“All right. Blake’s body was taken by Commissioner Sleer, formerly known as Servalan. She thinks that proof of his death will help her reinstate herself as a power within the Federation.”

“Why am I not surprised?” Jenna’s fingertips ghosted across her holstered gun. There was something familiar about the man’s voice, but she couldn’t place it. “You’ll have to be more specific than that.”

“I can be. But I need your word before I go further.”

Jenna quirked an eyebrow. “My word?”

“That you won’t kill me on sight,” he said, and raised his shorter arm to pull back his hood.

Jenna whipped out her gun without a second thought. “Travis!”

Travis bowed his head. She noted that his eyeplate was gone, leaving only the hollowed out fitting for an artificial eye that was no longer there.

Bek had his gun out now too, but he looked confused. “Who’s Travis?”

Jenna didn’t take her eyes or her gun off of Travis. “He was a space commander for the Federation, notoriously cruel and out for Blake’s blood.” She shook her head. “But you’re dead, Travis.”

“So I’ve heard.”

“I saw you die.”

“I’m sure you did.” Travis glanced at the smaller hooded figure by his side. “However, the man you knew as Travis was not me. At least… not after Ensor.”

Jenna nodded toward Travis’s companion. “Take off your hood too. Slowly; if I see a weapon, I’ll shoot him.”

The companion complied revealing the pale face of a Mutoid. Even without the black headpiece, Jenna remembered that face. “You’re the Mutoid who tried to kill me; you were Travis’s companion then too.”

“Yes,” the Mutoid answered. “I apologize. We were enemies then, and I was desperate for blood.”

“Her name’s Kiera,” Travis said, his voice now resonant as Jenna remembered it.

Bek looked between the two of them. “A Fed officer and a vampire? Why aren’t we shooting them?”

“I haven’t decided yet,” Jenna said.

Travis drew a sharp breath through his nostrils. “We don’t have much time before Sleer uses Blake’s corpse as her battle standard, Stannis. I know how to get him back.”

“All right,” Jenna said slowly. Finally, she nodded, coming to a decision. “We’ll continue this conversation… in the brig, where I won’t have to keep a weapon on you.”

“Understandable,” Travis conceded. “Lead the way.”

Jenna and Bek led the two to the brig at gunpoint. Her heart was beating in her ears and her palms were sweating, but maybe they were a little closer to getting Blake back.

At least, what was left of him.


	2. The Trap

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jenna and Carnell question their guest aboard the Firebrand.

Vila was staring at the communicator, waiting for it to bring the news that something had gone wrong. Maybe the ship they’d docked with was carrying a horrible virus. Or maybe its passenger some alien robot bent on destruction. Maybe both.

When the communicator finally did chime again, he nearly jumped out of his skin, and he _did_ jump out of his seat. "Come on, answer it!"

Carnell raised an eyebrow, his lip curled in a bemused smile. With irritating calm he answered. "Carnell."

"I need you to get down to the brig. We have a guest."

"I knew it’d be someone unfriendly," Vila moaned.

Carnell glanced up at him as he answered. "I take it you need my expertise?"

"Yes. Immediately."

Carnell released his communicator button and nodded, heading immediately toward the door. "I’ll be back short—"

"No," Vila yelped, hurrying after him. "I won’t be left alone in here with… I just won’t be. I’m coming along."

"You really should rest," Carnell reminded him.

"I’ll feel a lot more restful out of here, I assure you."

"All right." Carnell shrugged and held out his hand for Vila to exit the medibay before him.

The Firebrand was obviously a smallish ship—smaller than Vila was used to after the Liberator and Scorpio anyway—but it wasn’t a bad one. The trip to the brig was short and a bit cramped, but at the end of it he saw Jenna. He ran over to give her a huge hug, forgetting his burnt chest for a moment. He cringed away from her, but he was still smiling. "Oh, Jenna, I missed you."

"Me too," she said, with that familiar smile that made you wonder if she meant it or not. She nodded toward the cell. "I bet you didn’t miss him, though."

Vila’s eyes landed on the two inside the cell, and he felt like he might faint dead away right there. "You’re dead!"

"He knows," Jenna said.

Travis didn’t seem to notice either of them, though. His one eye was locked on Carnell, his thin lips pressed tightly together. Carnell, for his part, seemed similarly unsettled by their guest.

Vila leaned close to Carnell. "You two know each other?"

"Yes," Carnell stated evenly, his usually playful tone lowered to a serious pitch.

Travis’s voice was far more accustomed to that pitch. "I take it you’ve left the Federation, Puppeteer."

Carnell grimaced slightly at the word. "So… it wasn’t simply that conditioning changed you, but they actually replaced you? I should have realized, considering your disappearance so closely corresponded with Servalan’s use of that Clone Master. But it had been a while since we’d been face-to-face, and it’s sometimes hard to tell what changes time can make."

Travis looked away, his eyes darkening. "Indeed."

"I think that’s quite enough for the reunion," Jenna said. "Tell us why you’re here, Travis."

Travis nodded. "As Carnell says, I was replaced by a clone shortly after Servalan’s failed attempt to retrieve Orac. They took my eye and arm for the replacement, I imagine, and they sent me to Ursa Prime." His over-long left arm bent slowly upward. It was obviously a cheap model, nothing like the state-of-the-art prosthetic he’d had before.

Vila eyed the arm. It unsettled him, but it unsettled him less than the one that had a laser shooting out the end of it. "That’s a prison planet, isn’t it? Sounds about right."

"I was there for two years before I found a way off the planet." He lowered his arm again, cringing a little. Cheap prosthetics could cause some pain, and Vila rather hoped he was feeling a lot. "You can imagine that those two years soured my feelings toward the Federation."

"I find it hard to believe," Jenna said slowly, "that even Ursa Prime could make you a rebel."

Travis grimaced. "It didn’t. However, Servalan has done more damage to the Federation than any rebellions. She has also done damage to me. I would like to see her dead as much as any of you would."

"If nothing else, he’s honest," Carnell drawled out.

Jenna arched an eyebrow. "Yes, but that doesn’t make me any more certain I want to work with him. You still believe in the Federation, Travis?"

"There’s no need to _believe_ in it. It exists."

"But your feelings about it are—"

"Feeling has nothing to do with it," Travis snapped, interrupting Jenna. That old anger was burning in his eye for a moment before he looked away and it cooled to a dull heat. "I have no plan to actively fight the rebellion any longer. Blake is dead, and even if he weren’t, I’ve been free to hunt him down for months and didn’t."

Vila snorted. "You expect us to believe that?"

"We should. I see no indicators that he’s lying," Carnell said.

"I don’t believe in psychobabble," Vila said, glaring at Travis.

"You needn’t." Carnell shrugged. Travis slowly turned his attention to him. "But does it not stretch the imagination that he could so easily find us when he wants to, but that he couldn’t have found Blake? And, if he had done, that he wouldn’t have destroyed everything between himself and his prey now that he’s no longer under the constraints of Federation politics? Don’t be fooled, he’s still a violent, murderous madman, but for now his anger is directed in a more… profitable direction, for our purposes."

Travis’s eye was narrowed, but he didn’t look as furious as Vila would’ve expected. He held Carnell’s gaze for a long moment, then snapped it to Jenna. "I understand why you’d be hesitant to work with me, but you’re a smart woman, Stannis. You know you need me for the moment, and you know you’ve worked with looser cannons than me."

"I’m not sure about _that_." Jenna actually cracked a smile, though not a particularly happy one, and her expression quickly sobered. "All right, but you’re staying in the brig until we have some sure proof that you’re on our side for the time being."

"Of course. Sleer isn’t letting on about the death of Blake until she has a few things in place—she has to be sure that when the news is given, she will be cleared enough of any wrong-doing so that her reputation can be properly restored. I believe she’ll be on her way to a planet in the Yabron system called Hinad, sector five, co-ordinates 395-23-97. If this ship is as fast as it looks, we might catch her there."

Jenna nodded, her brow furrowed I thought. "And what’s she doing there?"

Travis smiled tightly. "She’ll need to store the body for several days, and one of the very few people she has left to trust lives there."

"All right," Jenna said. She looked to Carnell, then motioned for him to follow her into the corridor outside the brig. Vila hurried after them, not wanting to be left out of the loop, or anywhere near Travis.

"What do you think?" she asked Carnell.

Vila piped in first. "I think Travis has led us into more traps than I can count on both hands."

Jenna gave him an exasperated, but friendly look, but Carnell only seemed amused at them both. "I don’t think he’s leading us into a trap," he said.

"And why wouldn’t it be a trap?" Vila asked.

"Oh, it is one." Carnell grinned at Vila’s confused expression. "It’s not a trap for us, is what I said."

Jenna furrowed her brow. "It’s a trap for Servalan."

"Precisely," Carnell said. "Travis is not only a creature of habit, but he’s also a… straight-forward man. You know he uses traps, right? But you always entered into them anyway, because he made them unavoidable. He’s not particularly a double-crosser. To him, it’s more honorable to simply use what someone needs or wants against them rather than trick them into something with lies. At least… not this sort of lie."

"That’s some kind of honor," Vila said, but it made some sense, and he could see on Jenna’s face that she was thinking the same thing.

"All the same, we’ll need to be careful," Jenna said.

Carnell bowed his head. "Of course. Although I sincerely doubt that Travis would be any _threat_ outside of the brig, he’ll respect you for keeping him there at present… However, I would like to go in there with him for a few minutes. To check his physical condition. And the mutoid’s serum level. I’m not exactly sure where we’ll find her… refreshments, as it were."

"Not from me!" Vila squeaked.

Jenna smirked. "We’ll deal with that when the time comes. Let me know when she’ll need more. I’ll have Bek come with you to keep a gun trained on him."

"That won’t be necessary," Carnell said quickly.

Jenna quirked an eyebrow. "You trust him that thoroughly?"

"Perhaps," Carnell answered. "If I’m right, he isn’t in any state to hurt me, regardless of whether or not he wants to."

"All right. Bek will let you in, and you can contact him when you’re finished. I’ll need to stay on the flight deck. Vila, are you up to joining me?"

"It’ll be like old times." Not that Vila was sure if that was a good thing.

Carnell shook his head. "You’ll need to get some rest after three or four hours."

"I’ll be sure he does," Jenna said, and she headed off to the flight deck with Vila following her closely.

* * *

Bek didn’t seem particularly pleased to leave Carnell in the cell with Travis and Kiera, but he was more annoyed at being ordered to wait in the corridor than concerned for Carnell’s well-being. The man didn’t like being told what to do by alphas not named Jenna Stannis, and Carnell could hardly blame him for that. He’d never particularly liked it either; perhaps a hold-over from his father’s lower grade.

Once inside the cell, Carnell instructed Kiera--who was much more amenable to his commands--to stay in one corner while he took Travis to the other. Travis quietly allowed himself to be led.

"Could you take off your cloak?" Carnell asked.

Travis raised his eyebrow. "Why?"

"Since I left the Federation--shortly after you did, by the way, now that I know the true story--I’ve been studying some medicine. I’m what passes for a ship’s doctor here."

"That doesn’t answer my question."

Carnell smiled coolly. "Yes, I’m being obtuse, aren’t I? I want to see to give you a check-up, as it were, to see what you’ll need. I can’t imagine you’ve been taking care of yourself, considering how you’ve been living your life recently."

"I’m fine."

"But I’m the doctor, and I have Captain Stannis’s authority."

Travis sneered. "That’s how the Federation works, certainly not Stannis’s ship. You’re trying to appeal to my soldier sensibilities."

Carnell raised his eyebrows. "Is it working?"

Travis didn’t seem impressed, but regardless, he shrugged off his cloak as he’d been asked, then loosened the laces of his tunic. It had been a normal tunic at one point, but someone tore it down the front and added a lace so it could be removed with one hand. It wasn’t pretty, but it was effective; typical Travis.

"Is that enough for a check-up, or shall I drop my trousers as well?" Travis sneered.

Carnell ignored the implication. "You’re underweight."

"Dinner hasn’t been a priority since Ursa Prime."

"You’ve managed to stay reasonably fit, aside from your weight." Carnell’s stomach twisted as he looked over the map of scars that covered the left side of Travis’s torso, old burns from the explosion that had taken his arm and his eye. Carnell remembered the reports when it first happened; he’d called in a few favors to see them for himself. Blake hadn’t actually shot Travis, but he’d hit a fuel cell behind him. The initial reports had been that Travis was dead.

Carnell forced himself to look at the place where the prosthetic met what was left of Travis’s arm. "This isn’t yours."

"Astute observation. Will you tell me I’m missing an eye next?"

Carnell glanced up at Travis, then back down at the arm. "As you very well know, I mean that the prosthetic was made for someone else. It doesn’t fit correctly, and I think the skin it’s connected to has managed to get infected." Carefully, he touched the reddened skin. Travis drew a sharp breath through his teeth and pulled back from the touch. "Mm. It must be causing you quite a lot of pain to get that kind of reaction from you."

"This is what I could find. This is what I’ll use." Travis growled. "Unless you’ve been studying prosthetic engineering along with medicine."

" _Use_ isn’t quite the correct word. You can hardly move it." Carnell quirked an eyebrow, not backing down from the fierce glare levied at him. "I’m surprised at you, Travis. I didn’t think you were one for vanity."

Travis’s jaw was clenched, his eye narrowed, but Carnell found himself looking instead at the black metal next to it. It had replaced the missing parts of his skull, but it no longer housed the artificial eye.

"It must have been quite jarring, to have this sudden physical disability. You never had to face it when it happened, because you could tell yourself your replacement arm and eye were superior to the biological ones Blake destroyed, but—"

Travis grabbed him by his collar and pulled him close. Carnell had expected it, but his heart still raced with adrenaline. "Don’t overstep," Travis hissed into Carnell’s ear. "Don’t think that this has made me weak."

"I don’t think that," Carnell said evenly, although he was out of breath. "You do."

In his peripheral vision, Carnell could only see the flesh side of Travis’s face, his chin hovering just over Carnell’s shoulder and his eye staring forward. For a moment, was easy to remember what he was like when they’d first met, when they’d both been young.

Finally, Travis shoved him away. Still staring forward, he twisted the prosthetic arm and pulled it off. The only indication of the pain it must have caused him was a slight shift in the muscles of his neck and a sharp inhalation.

Carnell wet his lips, drawing himself up again now that his pulse had slowed to a normal pace. "I’ll be back shortly with something to treat the affected area, as well as some vitamin supplements to help you get back to a healthy weight."

"We’ll need serum for Kiera," Travis tossed his prosthetic aside blandly, as if he’d had no interest in keeping it. It clattered loudly on the floor.

"I thought you might. I’ll see what I can do," Carnell said with a nod.

Travis lifted his chin to watch Carnell with the cold eye of an officer, although he no longer was one. "Is that all?"

"For the moment." Carnell held Travis’ gaze, waiting to see… something. He wasn’t sure what.

Whatever it was, it wasn’t there. "I’ll return shortly."

"Of course." Travis side-stepped Carnell and went to Kiera. When he left them, Travis had his hand on her shoulder and was speaking quietly with what Carnell was sure seemed very similar to the kind of concern Travis no longer capable of. But it had been a long day, he reminded himself, and even "puppeteers" could be mistaken when they wanted to be.


	3. The Old Woman

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jenna and Carnell visit Servalan's friend.

The seats on the flight deck of the Firebrand were more comfortable than the ones on Scorpio, and Vila nearly fell asleep before Jenna said, “You should go get some rest. We’ll reach Hinad in… Five-point-two hours.”

“Yeah…” Vila glanced around. He wanted to ask if he could just sleep there, but he was fairly sure what the answer would be. It was a comfortable flight deck, but it was a small one, and Bek had come back a while ago. “Do… Do you want me to go back to the medibay?”

“The other quarters are being used for storage at the moment, so it’s the only place with a bed,” Jenna’s eyes were fixed on the viewscreen.

“Yeah, all right,” Vila said quietly. He watched Jenna for a moment more, trying to completely convince himself that they were both alive, and this wasn’t some twisted kind of afterlife, where everything’s as complicated and dangerous as it always had been.

Whatever it was, Vila didn’t have any choice but to accept it. He hadn’t had much choice in anything for a long time, so it wasn’t difficult. He found his way through the cramped corridor. He recognized the medibay doors by the lock, which was better than the locks on the personal quarters. Maybe he could put in for a better lock once he had his own room.

He pressed a button and the door slid open. “Carnell?” He called, peering around the medibay from the doorway. Carnell didn’t answer, and Vila didn’t see him anywhere. Maybe he was still dealing with Travis… though why anyone would want to deal with Travis was beyond him.

Maybe it was better than what was in here, though. The two patients were still out of it, as far as Vila could tell from his vantage point. Dayna seemed fast asleep—or unconscious—but Avon was grimacing, even though he didn’t seem to be awake either.

All Vila could think of was Soolin and Tarrant down on the planet… and Blake out wherever Servalan had taken him. Even the thought that none of them would ever make a joke at his expense again made him want to cry. He didn’t, though. Crying didn’t do any good.

He edged a little further into the room, keeping his eyes on Avon. He kept expecting his eyes to snap open. Why hadn’t he asked Jenna for a weapon? Maybe she wouldn’t understand. Even after what he’d done to Blake, maybe she wouldn’t understand who Avon had become since the war, since Terminal.

Maybe he could sneak up on Avon now, choke him to put out of their misery. He was almost sure he could even live with himself afterward.

Avon’s hand twitched under the thin white sheet, and Vila nearly jumped out of his skin. He ran back out into the corridor and closed the medibay doors behind him. He pressed his back against the wall, trying to catch his breath.

It hadn’t been that long since he’d liked Avon. It hadn’t been that long since he’d _trusted_ Avon, probably more than anyone he’d met. Avon was the only person who ever worried about people forcing him into doing things. How did things change so fast?

Vila slid down the wall until he was sitting on the floor and pulled his knees up to his chest. Back in the Scorpio base, some mornings he’d try to be so quiet that everyone would just forget he was there. Maybe he could do that here. If he just closed his eyes and stayed very still and quiet, he could just disappear.

He didn’t even realize he’d fallen asleep until he felt a warm hand on his arm. He opened his eyes to find Carnell kneeling in front of him, smiling softly. “That can’t be comfortable.”

“Could be worse.” Vila was smiling back until he tried to move and every part of his insides seemed to be made out of broken glass. He groaned, and Carnell helped him up. “Here, come into the medibay, and I’ll get you some painkillers.”

“Do I… Do I have to go in there?”

Carnell furrowed his brows, but not in an angry sort of way. He didn’t seem like the kind of guy who got angry. “No. I’ll bring it out to you.”

Vila waited in the corridor, half expecting Avon to burst out with a gun when the doors slid open. He didn’t, though, and after a moment, Carnell was back with one of those fancy little spray injectors that he gave to Vila. Vila frowned a little at it. “Seems a little less comforting when it’s not in drink form.”

“More effective and less addictive, though,” Carnell said.

“What’s the fun of that?”

Carnell chuckled. “I don’t have an answer for that. We’ll be arriving at Hinad in a few minutes… I’m going to be going down to the planet with Stannis. I’d hate to think you’ll spend all your time here in the corridor.”

"It's better than being in there."

Carnell nodded, and it looked as though he expected that answer. It looked as if he expected most of the answers he got, but Vila was surprised to find that it was more comforting than unsettling. But only just.

"I've an idea. Since I won't be using my own bed for the next few hours, perhaps you could look after it for me."

Vila stared at him. "You mean... stay in your quarters?"

"I don't see why not. It seems only hospitable. I believe it's something that you would do in my position, and so I feel compelled to reciprocate preemptively."

"I don't know about all that," Vila said, but there was no argument in his voice, only relief. Anything to put distance between himself and what was in that medibay. "But if you're offering, I'll receive it. Seems only polite."

"We're agreed, then. Come with me. I'll show you there before I go."

Kindness, Vila thought as he followed after Carnell. It had been so long since the last time he saw it, he was surprised he could still recognize it.

* * *

Jenna had returned to the brig once they were within an hour of Hinad to get more details from Travis. He’d settled in by then, having discarded both his ill-fitting prosthetic and his impatient tone. The conversation went well, although she couldn’t shake the feeling that they could easily be the prey of this particular trap rather than the bait. Hadn’t Travis’ clone claimed that they had common enemies once he was ousted from Space Command, only to try to kill them all?

Sure, she’d come to trust Carnell’s judgement since she and Blake had found him and recruited him to the cause, but she’d seen the way he reacted to Travis. There was always the potential that his objectivity had been compromised.

The fact that they had both been part of the Federation wasn’t far from her mind either. 

“According to our guest, we’ll looking for an old woman named Myrata,” Jenna said to Bek once she returned to the flight deck, “She’s lived by herself for a number of years, so the area should be clear. Once Carnell and I are down, wait ten minutes. If we haven’t made contact, it’ll be time for you to carry out our contingency plan.”

“You’re sure about this? I’d rather be down there with you from the start. Ten minutes can be a long time, and the good ‘doctor’ isn’t much with a blaster.”

“I am. And I’m hoping it won’t be necessary. There isn’t much choice until we have a full crew again, is there?”

Bek clenched his jaw and looked down at his tactical controls. Neither of them had spoken of Blake’s death, or that of their other comrades, aside from the cold facts of the matter. It had been a long year since Bek had joined the cause. She and Blake had found him in Space City, two years before they’d planned to go back for him. They’d been desperate for trustworthy recruits, and Bek had been someone they’d both agreed was one of the best people for it. He’d also been the one she’d chosen to come with her when Blake convinced her to go into hiding for six months pretending to be dead. 

Now it was everyone else who was dead, and the two of them seemingly resurrected.

She pressed the communication panel and waited to hear Carnell reply before ordering him to the flight deck. Of course, as soon as he arrived, she could tell he sensed the tension between his two crewmates. 

“How are your patients?” she asked, before he could comment on it.

“Avon and the young woman named Mellanby are the same as before; stable enough and unconscious. However, Restal’s anxiety is more concerning to me than his injury at the moment. I’ve told him to stay in my quarters while he’s resting, as he doesn’t particularly like sharing the medibay with Avon, I think.”

Jenna lifted an eyebrow. She wouldn’t have expected someone like Carnell to show so much sympathy toward Vila. “I think you’ll find Vila’s always anxious about one thing or another.”

“That may be the case,” Carnell said, bowing his head in concession. “However, in this case, I think his anxieties are very likely justified.”

“Can’t say he’s wrong about that, Jenna,” Bek said, still keeping himself preoccupied with his station.

“I didn’t,” Jenna said tersely. “We’ll be arriving soon. Come on, Carnell. I think your expertise should be helpful on the surface. Bek will keep an eye on your patients’ vitals from the flight deck.”

“Very well,” Carnell said.

“Good luck,” Bek called after them as they headed for the teleporter.

Once they were out of earshot, Carnell asked, “Nothing serious is it?”

“Bek’s angry. Not at me, I think, but in general.”

“You’re not?”

Jenna looked at Carnell for a moment, then went to the teleport panel to punch in the co-ordinates. She and Blake had designed it. They’d tested it together too. She’d been the first living human to be teleported from the Firebrand and back. “This conversation can wait for another time.”

“True.” Carnell stepped onto the teleporter pad. “However, I don’t think it should wait much longer.”

She nodded and joined him on the teleporter pad. The screen next to them counted down from three, two, one, and then the ship disappeared around them, only to be replaced by the garden of a small house.

“Quaint.” The curl of Carnell’s lip made it clear that was the only positive word he could think of for the place. 

Jenna, on the other hand, rather liked the look of it. Old fashioned, perhaps. “Bit like a storybook. Let’s introduce ourselves, shall we?” She stepped up to the door and knocked. 

A woman answered. She had to be Myrata; seventy years old if not older, and with the jet black hair Travis had told Jenna to expect. She looked back and forth between them, a sparkle in her pale gray eyes.

“We’re sorry to bother you, ma’am,” Carnell said, with his typical charm. “We’re looking for a friend, and we were told that you might know where she is.”

“Come right in,” Myrata said, ushering them into the small house. Jenna gave Carnell a “well, that was easy” look, and he lifted his eyebrows in agreement. “You two go ahead and sit down, and I’ll go pour you some tea.”

Before either of them could say it wasn’t necessary, she was gone. They both stood awkwardly by the door. Inside, the house was just as “quaint” as it was on the outside. The furniture looked to be older than she was, and the walls were covered by shelves of worthless trinkets.

Carnell looked even less impressed than he had been with the exterior. “Travis seemed very sure this was a friend of Servalan?”

“He said she’d worked with the Administration at some point. And that she’s become... _eccentric_ with old age.”

“In that case, I think we should leave.”

“Why?” Jenna asked, but she didn’t have a chance to answer before Myrata was back with her tea service. 

“You didn’t sit yet,” she said, gesturing for them to do so.

Jenna gave Carnell a small nod to let him know that he was to take the lead. He paused for a moment, not moving any further away from the door. “You seem to have expected us, if you don’t mind my saying.”

“I’m not senile, young man. Nor am I _eccentric_.” She shot a cold glare at Jenna that made Jenna’s heart drop. 

“I think you’re right about leaving,” Jenna said, reaching back for the door release button.

“There’s no point,” Myrata said, even as Jenna’s hand was shocked by a small force field. Jenna reached for the blaster at her hip next. “No point in that either. Your weapon was disabled when you walked in.”

“All right,” said Carnell. His eyes were on Jenna. He could see that he wanted her to stay calm, that he thought he could keep the situation under control. “What is it you want?”

“I want you to sit down and have a cup of tea,” Myrata said pleasantly.

Carnell nodded, and he approached the couch next to the chair where Myrata now sat. Jenna followed, gritting her teeth all the while. Still six more minutes before Bek would be alerted by their lack of contact. 

“See, that wasn’t so hard,” Myrata said. “I’m sorry, but I’ve failed to introduce myself… I assumed you’d know my name, Carnell.” She turned her smile to Jenna. “Stannis.”

“Myrata,” Jenna replied back, with a colder reflection of the other woman’s smile.

“Very good. Now, I assume you’re looking for Servalan. But she’s dead, of course.”

“Of course,” Carnell replied. “But rumors are that she’s proven to be a rather… _active_ corpse.”

“Yes, that sounds like her. Well, she has fallen out of my political favor for some time now, but some personal connections aren’t so easy to relinquish. All the same, I don’t think she’s really the one you’re looking for.”

Jenna leaned forward. “Then let’s stop playing games. Where has she taken Blake’s body?”

“Ah, let’s not hurry things along. First, we need everyone here. I believe you have one other member of your crew, correct? A Bek from Space City, if my records are correct--and they generally are. Why don’t you have him teleport down here, and when my friends arrive, they’ll take your ship. But, you’ll know where Blake’s body is. A fair trade, I think.”

Jenna drew a slow breath, then looked to Carnell. “What do you think?”

He narrowed his eyes slightly, but she could see that he understood her. “Like I said before, chasing a corpse is a fool’s errand. You would have us all killed to join Blake in death.”

Jenna feigned anger at his response, but inwardly she thought that she’d have to thank him once they got out of this. “You’ll never understand. No one from the Federation ever could.” She pressed down her communicator. “Bek, come in.”

“You’re early,” he replied.

“Bek, I need you to teleport down to the surface; same coordinates as I left on the control panel.”

She could sense Bek’s apprehension even before he spoke again. “But that’ll leave--”

“Yes, I know, that will leave the ship empty, but you’re needed here. Don’t bother bringing a blaster.”

“Be right there.”

Jenna released her communicator button, and lifted her eyes to find Myrata smiling even wider, clearly pleased with herself. Now, all Jenna could do was rely on Vila to carry out what Bek wouldn’t be able to.

“Wonderful,” she muttered to herself.


	4. Burn

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Travis and Vila work together to save Jenna and the others before the Federation arrives.

“Vila. _Vila!_ Answer, damn you!”

Vila’s eyes snapped open, stirred suddenly from a deep sleep. Someone was calling for him. Avon was awake. Avon was coming for him.

No. No, that wasn’t Avon’s voice. It had been another nightmare, mixing in with the reality of the voice on the communicator. He dragged himself out of bed, his heart still pounding when he pressed his palm against the button. “What’s all the shouting about?”

“Jenna and Carnell are on the planet, and I’m going down too. I think they’re in trouble. I was supposed to send Travis down when she called up, but I guess the plan’s changed. Now it’s up to you. The code to the cell’s three-seven-zero-five.”

“Wait, what?” Jenna wanted _what_?”

“I don’t have time to explain this to you. Send Travis down. Set the coordinates on the teleport control to one degree south. That’ll put Travis about half a mile out. Got it?”

“ _No!_ I’m not going anywhere near that psychopath. Why should I?”

“Because if you don’t, Jenna, Carnell, and I may very well be dead, and you’ll be up here on your own when the Federation shows up.. How’s that?”

Vila stared at the communicator. Maybe, if he was very lucky, he was still dreaming, and any minute now he might wake up.

“All right,” he said, quietly.

“Good.” The communicator clicked and went silent.

Vila stood there, trying to breathe slowly to calm his speeding heart. He wasn’t ready for this. He remembered lying there with everyone dying around him thinking it might not be all that bad if he never woke up again. It might not be so bad if only it meant he didn’t have to do _this_ anymore. This constant state of panic and fear and exhaustion. 

“I don’t want to die,” he muttered to himself as he finally headed toward the brig. He wasn’t sure who it was he was trying to convince.

He took a deep breath before he stepped into the place. Even with a barrier between himself and Travis and that creepy mutoid, he didn’t feel safe. And soon he’d be removing even that.

Travis was sitting in the corner next to the mutoid with his head bowed. Back firmly against the wall. That was something Vila understood, at least. 

Vila cleared his throat and Travis lifted his head and squinted his one good eye.

“Jenna needs you.”

Travis blinked slowly, then pushed himself up to his feet. “My companion needs serum.”

“I don’t care about that. Jenna needs you to go down to… I don’t know. I don’t know why she wants you there. She’s got Bek and Carnell down there, and. I just know I’m sending you down too.”

“I’m not going anywhere until my companion has her serum. I know that Carnell was working on making some for her. Perhaps it’s in the medibay.” He paused. “Or else I’ll have her take it from you and me, and then neither of us will be in a position to complete Stannis’ orders, will we?”

Vila stood very still for a moment, considering his options. Was he more afraid of a one armed monster or an unconscious one?

“I’ll let you out, then we’ll go to the medibay and see if there’s serum. But if there’s not, we need to get to the surface. Carnell can get her that serum when we get him back.”

Travis glanced down at the mutoid. She nodded up at him. “All right,” he said. “Let me out.”

“All right, but if you kill me, I’ll never forgive you for it.” That probably should’ve sounded more like a joke, but it was too half-hearted. It hardly mattered. Vila punched in the code Bek had given him --not sure whether or not he was hoping he’d remembered it correctly--and the cell door slid open.

Travis stepped through, and looked back at the mutoid as the door slid closed again.

“Guess they chose right,” Vila said. Travis looked at him, confused. “Back on that planet with the old woman, when they chose her as your friend.”

Travis’ eyebrow twitched slightly, but all he didn’t respond.

Vila just shrugged and led Travis to the medibay. He paused outside of the door. He wanted to send Travis in alone, but the idea of leaving Dayna in the company of Avon and Travis both, regardless of how unaware of it she would be, was a little too much even for a coward. All the same. “You first,” he said.

Travis complied and Vila followed after him. They both stayed by the doorway while Travis surveyed the area. “I thought Avon was dead.”

“Do you see the serum anywhere?” Vila said quickly.

“Mm.” Travis stalked across the room to a green vial and picked it up. “This should be it. Carnell kept his word.”

“All right, great, let’s get on with it, then.”

“One more thing,” Travis said, and plucked up a sharp instrument from a tray. “We’ll need to look for some supplies.”

Vila blinked, “What sort of supplies?”

“The woman that Stannis and the others went to see likely has the security package that most former Administration members have. I know how to disengage the system, but I’ll need a few things. Hopefully they’ll be somewhere on this ship.”

“You’re the one who told Jenna to go down there, aren’t you? Why didn’t you warn her about that?”

“I did, actually.” Travis walked past Vila back into the corridor. He didn’t slow his pace until he reached the brig again. He waited for Vila to open the cell door for him, and knelt next to the mutoid. Vila thought he saw something almost kind in the way Travis helped her, but he was sure he was imagining it. There wasn’t anything good in Travis. Anything that seemed good was probably a tactic that he’d employ later on.

Once he seemed sure the mutoid was satisfied, he returned to Vila. “Any idea where Stannis might keep tools like the ones we’re looking for.”

“It’s not a big ship…” Vila shrugged. “Carnell mentioned they were using the extra cabins for storage.”

“RIght,” Travis said, waiting for Vila to lead the way.

Vila didn’t budge yet. He took a deep breath and straightened up so that he was just about eye level. ”If you do anything to Jenna down there--”

“I have no reason to hurt her. And if I did, I think she would be able to defend herself, don’t you?”

“I’d just rather she didn’t have to.”

“She won’t,” Travis said. “You have my word, whatever that’s worth.”

Vila considered that. “Not much. But it’ll do for now.”

“Of course.” Travis smiled just a little, but it was enough to make Vila’s stomach turn. He headed back into the corridor that led to the cabins just so he wouldn’t have to think about it anymore. As Travis followed, he added, “I have an idea that might assure her safety, if you’re willing to help.”

“Help with what?”

“A trap,” Travis said, still smiling.

* * *

By the time Bek arrived, Jenna and Carnell had been led to what appeared to be a large re-purposed closet with a force barrier where the door would’ve been. The three of them there made it cramped indeed, and Jenna could see on Bek’s face just how displeased he was about the situation. 

“I could’ve done something,” he murmured as soon as Myrata left. “Instead you--”

“We’re here to find out where Blake’s body is. Nothing else is important.”

He narrowed his eyes at her. Then, silently touched his ear. She understood and nodded. She couldn’t be sure that they were being listened in on, but given what had happened before, she didn’t want to risk it.

“Now we wait,” said Carnell. He was leaned against the wall with his arms crossed. He looked more nervous than Jenna had ever seen him, although she couldn’t determine why. They’d been in more difficult situations than this since he’d joined them. 

He’d been nervous like this ever since Travis had come aboard. She was too, of course, but _he’d_ been the one to claim he was certain Travis wasn’t a threat--at least not at the moment. She had a feeling there was something he wasn’t telling her. He’d get an earful about it as soon as she had the chance.

“How soon will the Federation ships get here?” Bek asked.

Jenna shrugged. “Given the location and Myrata’s connections, I’d say we’ve got a half an hour at most.”

Bek sighed, giving her an “I hope you’re right about this” look before sitting on the ground with his back to the wall. 

“It’ll all be worth it,” Jenna said, with more conviction than she had. “All we have to do is--”

She was interrupted by Myrata’s return. She had a weapon of some sort, presumably not disabled by the Federation security measures she had installed in her home. She pressed her hand against the scanner next to their makeshift prison.

“Come on, Jenna,” she said in a friendly tone. “There’s someone on my long range comm who wants to speak with you.”

Bek started to get to his feet in protest, but Jenna motioned for him to stay where he was. She stepped out and the force barrier buzzed back on behind her.

Myrata led her back into the front room, where a painting had been moved to reveal a screen. Jenna could hardly say she was surprised by who it was smiling at her from that screen.

“Servalan,” she said flatly.

“Jenna Stannis. It’s been a long time.”

“Hardly long enough.” 

Servalan ignored the response. “I wouldn’t have thought it was like you to be caught this easily. You’ve always been so good at hiding while the others fight.”

“Chalk it up to bad luck.” She glanced at Myrata. “Your friend seemed to be expecting us.”

“Myrata is always prepared.”

“With a friend like you, I suppose she’d have to be.”

Servalan chuckled. “Ah, I look forward to meeting you in person, Jenna. But I’m afraid that will have to wait. You see, I’m going to be making a broadcast in the next few minutes, and I have a feeling that afterward, I will be _very_ busy.”

Something heavy had formed in the pit of Jenna’s stomach. “Blake,” she said.

“What’s left of him, yes. This is the information you bargained for. You wanted to location of Blake’s body; here it is.”

Servalan moved aside to reveal the corpse propped up in a chair behind her. His head was leaned back and his one good eye stared forward glassily. His chest was bare, revealing the fatal injury, brown and black where his heart had been.

Jenna refused to flinch away from the sight. She knew Servalan would still be watching her, she knew any sign of grief or pain or anger would delight her, so Jenna kept her expression blank while her mind whirled.

“Are you satisfied, Jenna?” Servalan asked.

“You don’t have to worry if _I_ believe it. You have a universe to convince.”

Servalan reappeared on the screen. “Oh, I will. Myrata, I’ve sent a ship to pick you up as we agreed. Feel free to kill them, or you can allow the troopers to do it when they get there, if you’d prefer.”

“My pleasure, Commissioner.”

The screen went black and Myrata waved her weapon for Jenna to return to the cell.. “I think I’ll kill you in front of your--” The green button underneath the screen flashed, interrupting her thought. Myrata furrowed her brow. “Stay put,” she said, and she pressed a button to accept the message.

 

“Federation Cruiser here for the pick-up of Myrata. Relaying security code… now.” 

Jenna clenched her jaw as she watched Myrata check the code. It was Vila’s voice. All that was left to be seen was how convincing he was.

“Already?” Myrata frowned. “Security codes aren’t coming through, Cruiser…”

“Still working out the bugs on these new ships, er… Sending down a shuttle, squad leader will transfer the codes in person.”

“This is most irregular.”

“Sorry, ma’am. Can’t be helped. Federation Cruiser out.”

Jenna drew a small breath of relief; Vila played the part of a Federation man well, at least when it was nothing but his voice. Myrata, clearly annoyed, began to turn off the communicator, but VIla’s voice chimed in again.

“Federation Cruiser, again--Myrata, it looks like you have someone moving along the southern perimeter. You might want to lock those doors until we get there.”

Myrata’s eyes widened slightly. “I’m sure I can handle it, thanks.”

She shut off the communicator and looked at Jenna. “Who is it?”

“I’m not sure what you mean.”

Myrata jabbed her blaster into Jenna’s belly and leaned in close. “Was there someone else on your ship?”

“If there was,” Jenna said coolly, “There apparently isn’t now.”

“All right then. Turn around and walk out in front of me--gently now. I don’t want to be forced to shoot my hostage.”

Jenna did as she was told, allowing herself a slight smile once her back was turned.

* * *

“What’s taking them so long?” Bek hadn’t stopped moving since Jenna had left, constantly fidgeting with his hands, standing up and pacing, then sitting back down.

It wasn’t surprising behavior, but for some reason it was grating on Carnell’s nerves more than it should’ve been. “Knowing Servalan? She--”

“Servalan?”

Carnell sighed impatiently. “She will be the one who wanted to talk to Jenna. Which means she won’t be coming here. Which _means_ this was quite possibly a waste of time.”

“Not entirely,” Bek said.

Carnell lifted an eyebrow, but he could tell by Bek’s expression that he couldn’t ask further. Whatever he meant, it couldn’t be explained if someone was listening in. 

So, Jenna had planned for this. Planned for this to go wrong so that she could accomplish something else. But what?

The realization came over him, making his the hair on the back of his neck stand up. This, among other things, was a test for the new arrival to their ship. 

As if called there by Carnell’s thoughts, Travis appeared before them.

Bek scrambled up to his feet again, but it wasn’t he who spoke, it was Carnell. “Looks like the security’s disabled.”

“If you could teleport directly into the house,” Bek quickly said, finishing Carnell’s thought. “Means the bugs aren’t hearing us either. So what’s the plan?”

Travis shook his hand so that the loosely fitting teleport bracelet fell into his palm. He pressed the communicator button. “It looks like we’ll need you down here after all, Restal. There’s a lock that isn’t connected to the main security channel.” He looked at Bek. “The computer can handle teleportation itself, can’t it?”

Bek nodded, but Vila didn’t wait for any vocal answer. “Doesn’t mean I want to go down there. You took down the whole security system, and you can’t handle one lock by yourself?”

“This is personal security, not Federation. Besides, I should think you owe them for saving your life.”

Vila didn’t answer, but in a few moments, he too appeared next to Travis holding a few tools in his hand. Jenna had a habit of keeping lock-picking tools onboard, although they’d never had anyone who could use them properly. Carnell had suspected it as a form of sentiment, but perhaps it had been forethought. Or both.

Vila glanced around for any sign of immediate danger, then rested his attention on the lock. “Should be easy, but it’ll take a few minutes.”

“The faster the better.” Travis moved toward the entryway of the room, briefly inspecting the corridor that lay outside of it. He wiggled the bracelet back onto his wrist and reached for the blaster on his hip. “Myrata should be realizing that there is no intruder soon enough.”

“Intruder?” Bek asked.

Carnell smiled, although his insides were crawling with anxiety. “One of Travis’ signature traps, I assume.”

“And can _I_ assume Myrata took Stannis as a hostage?” Travis asked.

“She took her out to talk to Servalan over the comm,” Bek said.

Carnell nodded. “But she’s likely taken the opportunity to use Jenna’s presence if she believes there to be an intruder.”

“If Jenna’s a hostage…” Bek furrowed his brow. “You’d better be damned careful about how you handle this.”

Travis snorted dismissively. “I’ll just have to be quick enough to shoot Myrata before she can react.”

“You’d better hope you are, or--”

“Don’t bother making threats.” Travis pressed his back near to the doorframe, keeping his blaster close. “I’ll be dead if this mission fails regardless of the reason or the cause. I have a feeling that was the point. Now, if you don’t want to alert Myrata, I would suggest you stay quiet. And, Vila--” Vila glanced away from his work. “If you hear Myrata coming, get out of sight, whether you’ve finished with that or not.”

“You don’t have to tell me twice,” Vila muttered.

They all went silent then. The only sound left was the quiet scraping of Vila’s tools on the locking mechanism. Carnell watched Travis, looking for any sign that this was a betrayal. He should have already known. He should have been able to anticipate from the beginning of this what Jenna had in mind, and how Travis would react to it. That was his use to this rebellion, wasn’t it? To give them some small advantage against the Federation by knowing every outcome before it happened. 

His mind was too distracted to-- No, that was an excuse. He was allowing himself to be too _subjective_ in this situation, and it could easily get them all killed.

A sound in the corridor interrupted Carnell’s introspection. Vila scurried off behind a piece of furniture, and Travis’ muscles tensed. Carnell didn’t breathe as Jenna appeared in the doorway, and Myrata behind her with her weapon trained on her. Myrata’s eyebrows began to lift--she’d noticed the casing of the locking mechanism had been tampered with. 

She had no time to react. Travis barked Jenna’s name, and shot Myrata in the back. Jenna had only just enough time to duck down as Myrata reflexively fired off a blast of her own.

In a moment it was over, and the old woman was on the ground, dead.

Jenna stood up straight again, looking down at her former captor. “At least that’s over.”

“Come on, VIla,” Bek called impatiently. 

Vila popped out from behind a piece of furniture to get back to the locking mechanism., Jenna smiled in surprise at seeing him. “Your acting wasn’t half bad back there.”

“If you thought that was impressive, you should see this.” After another flick of a lock-picking tool, he pressed his hand against the panel and the force shield buzzed briefly and then was silent. 

“Good,” Jenna said. “Let’s get out of here, then.”

“What about him?” Vila asked, nodding toward Travis.

Travis hadn’t yet moved. He was still standing over the corpse, staring at the wound his weapon had created. The clothes had burned away in one spot, and left a bloodied mess where the blast entered her body and stopped her heart. 

“It’s the blood,” Carnell whispered.

Jenna looked at him, clearly perplexed by his statement. There was no explaining it now. He stepped toward Travis. “Look away from it,” he said, in a quiet voice. “Look at me.”

Slowly, Travis lifted his gaze to Carnell. His one eye was wide, and his skin was pale. After a moment, he spoke, “It’s fine.”

Jenna gave Carnell a look that gave him the impression he’d have a lot of explaining to do. “All right, then.” 

She pressed the automatic transport button on her bracelet. The room disappeared around them, and in a moment they were back on the Firebrand.

* * *

“You’re sure it was him,” VIla said. 

They were on the flight deck. Travis was sitting at Bek’s station, his skin still pale. Carnell stood near him with concern creasing his brow. Bek and Vila were by the flight controls while Jenna stood in front of the viewscreen. Her arms were crossed and her expression was like stone.

“It was him.” 

Vila drew a slow, deep breath. So, that was it. That was the end of Blake. He’d known the man was dead--he’d _seen_ him die--but somehow hearing Jenna say it made it more real. He could feel a heaviness in the room that made him sure that the others were feeling the same way.

“She thinks she’s won,” Travis said suddenly, causing Vila’s heart to leap up. When no one spoke immediately, his nostrils flared. “Well, _has_ she?”

Jenna was quiet for a long moment, her eyes trained on Travis with anger smoldering behind them.

“On some planets, there’s an archaic tool called a match. It’s just a small piece of wood, but when you strike the end of it, it catches fire.” She lifted her chin. “Those troopers took Blake’s body from that planet and delivered him to Servalan, because she thought he was the match that set us all alight, and without him we would be snuffed out. None of us-- _none_ of us--matter to any of those Federation bastards. Not a handful of criminals and defectors, all of us as good as dead. No matter how self-important; they think we only burned because of him. They think without him, there’s no fire.”

A light near the flight panel came on, and Bek frowned at it as the small screen began to relay information. “There’s a message coming in… all channels.” He looked up at Jenna grimly. “A broadcast from the Federation.”

“Servalan…” Carnell said quietly. “She’s broadcasting his death to any world or vessel with even the most basic communications device.”

“No one will rally to us without Blake, Jenna,” Bek said. “Not… not easily. He’s the one who brought everyone together. He’s the one they believed in. So what are we supposed to do? What _can_ we do now?”

Jenna stalked over to the flight controls and pressed a button. The Federation symbol appeared on the viewscreen, awaiting the beginning of the broadcast.

“We watch this,” Jenna said, “And we _burn_.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is the of The Firebrand "episode" of Matchwood. The story will be picked up in The Figurehead.


End file.
